It wasn’t a choice I did make, it was a cause, I couldn’t chase.
I was old, to handle, the requisite of increasing exigencies.
I was alone, to conciliate, the unending malice.
I was ready to adjust, but not were they.
I tried to influence that broken correspondence, with dotage experience, but without consequences. Necessity took my heart, so my love; both gone, I am alone. Glancing their memories, in my mind, nothing is left except rewind. Repeat, reread and recreate! how were they, how are they.

I am old, I couldn’t alter; Blood were mine, but will were thine.
This house seems sans ornements, en dehors, of them.
This mortal mind, screech and scream, réapparaître,revenir;réapparaître,revenir.

*sans ornements- without ornaments. En dehors– devoid reapparaitre, revenir– come back